


Choices and Chances

by Koware



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Bat Family, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koware/pseuds/Koware
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has choices to make and chances they can take. It is up to that person to make that choice and take that chance. Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd are given choices and chances and must decide whether or not they are ready move forward or lag behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Choice I

He slept. It was longer than he could remember. He was tired. He had fought and he had lost, it was just that simple. He no longer questioned anything. He wasn’t that important. The choice had already been made and today was no different. ‘He’ would always choose the right thing to do. It hurt so bad to stand there and be denied again. Was it so much to ask to kill the person who took your child… your son? He would never receive the answer he desired. He had stood there and watched as once again the clown had the last laugh, but it wasn’t going to end that way. If he didn’t pick him they all would die. Why should he care anymore?

He could still feel the heat from the fire burning his skin, although the brunt of the blast was taken by his former caretaker. He remembered his name being called over and over frantically. He could only remember wondering why he cared if he died once more. Why bother saving a failure like him.

* * *

 

The hero worked frantically to push air into the teen’s lungs. His back burned and his eyes stung, yet he kept working on the teen that had stop breathing. The mask now burned from the teens face, revealed scars from the first time he had died. Scars that he didn't prevent.

“I won’t let you die again, you won’t! You don't get you die on me again!” he continued until the teen took a breath on his own. With the main problem fixed the cape crusader picked up the teen. He moved quickly through the back alleys of Gotham. The teen was shrinking in his arms. He didn’t understand but the young man was regressing into a child. He need to find Ra’s al Ghul, he knew what was happening to the teen.

* * *

 

Voices, Jason could hear voices surround him. He couldn’t make out the words but one was angry. The other was concerned while the last one was reserved. He wanted to tell them to shut up, but he was too tired. His skin felt like it was burning and yet he felt cold as well. The voice full of rage was talking to the reserved one with barely restrained anger. He knew that voice.

Jason wondered what it was that he was so angry about. He tried in vain to talk but no words would come out. He opened his eyes slowly to see Nightwing over him. It was disturbing to have the man standing over him while he was in such a vulnerable position. In the past he might have even been happy to see him, but not anymore. Nothing was the same anymore. No matter how much he wished it was.

The former Robin got down on his knees and took his hand. He could feel the cold fabric of his suit against Jason’s hot sweaty palm. The words he spoke fell on deaf ears, because Jason couldn’t hear anything any longer. Fear gripped the younger man as he realized that he no longer could hear. His hand tightened on the older man’s hand.

He was afraid he was going to die. He didn’t want to die again. He didn’t want to fade away into the never-ending darkness. He wanted to speak but still words would not come. He couldn’t convey his fear. He could tell them he was sorry for what he'd done.

Somewhere deep inside, Jason wondered why Bruce wasn’t holding his hand. Was he so disappointed with him that he didn’t even want to be near him? It wouldn't have been a surprise if that was the reason.

All he wanted was to make him proud, but then everything happened. He lost his life and then woke to a world where not even his death changed anything.

He wanted Bruce to pick between him and the clown. Was it so hard? Tears were gathering at the edges of his vision and darkness started to set in as well. He wondered why his hand felt so small compared to Nightwing’s. It was odd, he was dying and his last thoughts were about hand sizes. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once but neither would come because his voice had already disappeared.

* * *

 

Bruce Wayne looked down at the limp body in his arms. He unconsciously tightened his arm around the now child version of Jason Todd. He looked to the Lazarus pit, the chances of this working were almost none but he had to try. Jason’s life was on the line again and this time he wouldn’t fail him. He couldn’t fail him again.

He had failed him far too many times before. He took a step toward the Lazarus pit and once more looked at Jason. Whatever happened, he was resolved to protect the young man the correct way.

To stop the regression another body was need to balance out the cell regression. It was a risk that Bruce was willing to take for boy he had failed. Talia had researched countless methods but this was the only way. The pit they were at was different from all the others that Bruce had seen. The liquid that filled the small lake was a deep blue that shimmered beautifully. It wouldn’t cause the same effect as the others. It would stop the regression but it would also work on Bruce as well. Only it would rejuvenate his body without the effects of insanity. Bruce was wary but he had no choice.

Ra’s had long ago forgotten about the failed pit. It had none of the properties of the others and it only worked on the living. It healed injuries; sickness and at times old age, but there were conditions to use the pit. Ra’s did not meet those conditions so he had forsaken the pit. No side effects were ever present but it could only be use once by a person like all the other pits. In his travels he never came across another Indigo Lazarus Pit.

“Are you sure about this Bruce?” Dick asked. The older man gave a short yes. He wasn’t sure why but he didn’t want to have this conversation with Dick. He didn’t need to be asked about his resolve. He had to do this to save Jason and to at least show the boy that he cared. It was the only way he could because words were not one of Bruce’s high points when it came to emotions.

Taking control of a room full of executives and explaining what he did and did not want done was easy. Scaring a criminal into spilling his guts was a walk in the park, but speaking about his feelings and comforting others were out of his grasp. He didn’t know how to and really he felt he should. Alfred had comforted him many times when he was young and yet he could not emulate what he was shown.

So instead of pondering over anything else he took a step into the indigo water that shimmer and glowed ethereally. He was hesitant but kept his pace. The pit wasn’t like the others at all. He didn’t get the same feeling of wrongness he got from the other pits. Those pits gave off an ominous feeling that was wrapped tightly in hatred and darkness. He vaguely wondered what Jason felt coming back to life in such a place.

He wondered how lonely the teen must have been. He wondered how fearful he must have felt. He wondered how terrifying it was too come back to life in a place filled with nothing but hate and pain.

He should have been there. He should have saved his son, even if it was not logically possible. He had no idea Jason was even alive, but it did not decrease the guilt he felt. No it only made it grow because he should have known, but when Jason died he closed himself of. Like a computer, he shut himself down because coping was harder than anything he'd ever faced. Losing a child was like losing a piece of your heart and Bruce didn't have many of those pieces to begin with. His heart was already a mess.

He was knee deep in the cool water and he continued deeper into the pool. Contrary to what he had seen from all the pits Ra’s submerged himself in, the liquid was cool and calming. It only serve to set Bruce on edge but he didn’t stop his descend. Jason’s small body in his arms was something he had never experience. He had met the boy when he was in his teens so he didn’t know how the boy looked like when he was a child, but now he did.

The small child was pale more from his body degrading than natural color. His black hair was a little longer and very unkempt. He had round cheeks and a small nose that could only belong to a child. Bruce couldn’t help but think of ‘what ifs’. He wondered how Jason would have turned out if he didn’t fail him. If he hadn’t let him become Robin, instead being taking care of by real parents.

At that moment Bruce made a choice that he would have to stick by if he was ever going to help Jason.

He looked down to the small boy once more to see dull green eyes that were confused and afraid as well. “…”

Again he was a lost for words to assuage the boy’s fear but instead he held him tighter and it seem to work because the small child had closed his eyes and relax. Bruce wasn’t sure if it was from his actions or if the boy’s time was about to end. He wasted no more time and dropped down slowly under the blue depths holding tightly to the boy. He wasn’t sure what would happen but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down.

* * *

 

Bright green eyes open to a white ceiling that seemed too bright. The owner of said green eyes turned his head groaned lightly. He was tired and his bones ached like he was over the age of sixty. He knew it was the work he did that cause him to have such pain but who else would do the job that the Bats was afraid to do.

He cleaned up the city in his own way and he saw nothing wrong with it. Why put rapists and murderers in jail when you could end their live? They had their chance to live normally and wasted it. That was how he saw things. He knew his view was jaded and that there were exceptions at times, but that didn’t help the people that had suffered from the crimes. It didn’t help anyone. Jail only served as a setback to criminal that would soon get out because of Gotham’s corrupted justice system that all the scum and trash of the city knew how to manipulate in their favor.

He groaned again from the pain and soon moaned deeply. His body shuddered in revulsion and he wasn’t sure of the reason why. He wanted to move but thought better of it when he moved his arm and every muscle in his body screamed ‘no’. Instead he just looked at the wall to his left and finally he realized he was in his room.

Not his safe house or apartment he stayed in occasionally but his room from his time as Bruce Wayne’s ward. This time he forced himself up into a sitting position despite his body begging him not to move anymore. He couldn’t be here in this place. He couldn’t allow himself for one second to reminisce about his former home because the moment he did reality would come crashing down on him like a hammer. He didn't want to deal with those feelings.

Before he could get to his feet he heard the door open and to his surprise there was the person he did not want to see. Not now, not ever. He couldn’t deal with the man’s disappointment in him at the moment because he was hurting in a way he had never felt. At first he honestly thought his night activities were catching up with him but in truth it was something else. It felt like his bones were cramped or as if he needed to stretch. It was an odd feeling that he didn’t particularly like but it was not the worst of the pain. Every bone and muscle in his body hurt as if he was crushed and somehow survived.

“You’re awake.” Bruce’s voice broke his line of thought to which he inwardly cursed. He had remembered something from the day before but now it was gone.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” he said flopping back on the bed because his body couldn’t take sitting up any longer. As the older man drawn near Jason realized that the man looked younger. Not that Bruce was old but now he looked at least in his mid-twenty and that was enough to freak Jason out. He knew for a fact that the world he lived in was vast in strangeness, but he also knew that Bruce was a normal human being if not slightly crazed.

“We need to talk Jason.” The words worried Jason. He didn’t like the tone of Bruce’s voice. It was the I-have-bad-news voice that he hadn’t heard in so long. He gave the man a quick nod but said nothing else waiting for the ever looming conversation to being.

“But first you need to look at this.” Bruce gave Jason a mirror to which Jason raised an eyebrow wondering about Bruce's strange offer.

He took the mirror and looked at it only to see a young boy looking back at him. The boy was around the age of seven or eight with big green eyes and black hair. He was looking at himself, but from years ago. That would explain his voice.

“What is this?” he asked calmly though inside he was losing it. He was stuck in a child’s body not to mention he realized he had some memory loss. Now that he tried to remember what happened yesterday, he realized that he couldn't. In fact he realized that there were other things missing as well. Certain memories were fragmented. He knew who he was and he remembered very important moments in his life but there were other things that were missing.

“To stop you from regressing out of existence I submerged you in an Indigo Lazarus Pit. The pit stopped your aging but did not reverse you back to the age you were.” Of course Bruce knew that it wouldn’t, but he left that out.

“You put me in that-” Jason stopped as his angry came to an abrupt stop because his stomach growled loudly into the silence. He turned his head not from embarrassment, or so he liked to believe.

“We should probably eat before we talk.” Bruce said pushing his hair back in an uncharacteristic fashion. Jason noticed immediately but didn’t speak. Instead he forced himself back to a sitting position to get up but Bruce stopped him.

“I’ll bring your breakfast to you. You shouldn’t move much in your condition.” He said with a monotone voice which was off putting.

Jason didn’t move from his spot because he couldn’t. His body felt numb to the point he couldn’t feel his legs, so he laid on the bed trying to go over the events from last night.

Everything still remained a blur. He couldn't remember anything but Nightwing holding his hand. It was the first time that Dick had ever held his hand. He flexed his hand at the memory. It felt...like he was really apart of the family again for that one minute. He felt safe for that one minute. He threaded his hand into his hair as realization sunk in. It was a lie. They were only worry because... because

He didn't know why Dick had held his hand. Was it false peace? Or did he really care... He didn't know and he couldn't dwell on it.

Jason looked at the nightstand beside the bed. It was literally how he left it. Sundry trinkets lay scattered messily on the stand before him. Things he remembered collecting as he grew up in Bruce's care.

His treasures... from a lifetime ago. He couldn't stay. He knew he couldn't stay no matter how much he wanted to. This place wasn't for him, this family wasn't his anymore. He had to leave before he forgot his place in life. He made the choice to kill and Bruce would never forgive him for that. He reached out ran his fingers against an old book that was slightly off the edge of the table. It wasn’t dusty. Alfred kept his room clean even though he would never return...or so he thought.

“I can’t stay here.” he repeated to himself.

"In your condition wouldn't be smart of you to leave." Dick said. He entered the room a little too quiet for Jason to hear in his current state.

Jason looked at him but didn't respond. He didn't want to talk to the man. He wondered if he ignored him if he'd go away.

"Come on Jason, don't ignore me." The blue eyed man said.

"I'm not staying here." He responded with finality.

"Where will you go? You can't even move in your condition. What are you going to do, roll down the stairs and out of the house?" Dick asked with an edge of humor.

Jason felt annoyed by the man's words. What right did they have to keep him there? Other than the fact that he was a criminal. He guess that was a perfect reason.

"You should be glad I don't have my gun." Jason said knowing how nonthreatening that sounded coming from a child. He rolled his eyes at the sound of his childish voice.

"Yeah I guess I should be, you might come off being a miniscule more threatening." The young man said taking a seat in a chair.

"You're not leaving?" Jason asked.

"I thought I'd play mediator when you and Bruce start talking. There's bound to be an argument."

"Yeah." The seemingly child said closing his eyes from irritation. His body hurt and he was very tired and yet he knew he was safe there with his former family. For once he fell asleep without terrible dreams.

“Jason.” Dick gently shook the small boy, rousing him from his dreams. Jason opened his eyes slowly as if it took great effort.

“Dick?” Jason said pushing himself up into a sitting position. He trembled in pain but refused help when Dick tried to assist. “I'm fine, I don't need help.”

“Yeah, sure.” the older man said moving away from the boy.

“We should talk.” Bruce said. Jason visibly jumped completely unaware that the man was in the room. He couldn't sense anything or pick up on their breathing like before. He should have known but he didn't. He knew it was the body he had now. There was no other explanation.

Jason steeled his nerves and looked up at the man that stepped in front of the bed. Dick was sitting in the chair to his right and Jason was sure the rest of them were outside listening. “Then talk.”

Bruce took a silent deep breath before speaking. He was care to choose his words wisely so as to not upset Jason. Jason didn't know it yet but he was unstable. “Your mind is…fragile from the effects of the Indigo Pit.

“I'm borderline insane with poor mental stability. Tell me something I don't know. ” Jason said wondering why Bruce was using kid gloves with him. The Dark Knight was never one to mince words.

“Your body deteriorated fast than the pic could restore. It has not reach a fatal stage but your current condition could become debilitating.” Bruce said almost clinically.

“Bruce.” Dick said taken aback by the older man's lack of sympathy. Dick didn't say anymore observing the underlying emotion in the man lack of expression.

Jason started down at the red blanket covering him. “I'll be back where I belong in no time. ”

“Jason!” Dick said warningly. “Don't do this now.”

“Why? No one here is happy the black sheep is here. I should have stayed in that grave it would have been better than this hellhole. ” Jason said clenching his fist even though it hurt. His entire body screamed in pain but he didn't let it show on his face, even as his body shuddered involuntarily.

“I am happy to see you.” Alfred said stand at the threshold.

Jason glanced at the older man and then quickly turned his head. "I'm not staying here."

“Yes you are.” Bruce said with a finality that brook no argument.

“You might as well give up when he says it like that.” Dick said reclining in the chair.

"I'm not staying here. You can keep me here." He green eyed child forced his body to moved. He slid his legs off the bed with great effort. Before he could used the rest of his strength to get off the bed Bruce was in front of him

"You body can't even take the strain of sitting up. You are not dying Jason but if you leave you will." The billionaire said pushing the seemingly child on to the bed.

“Why does this matter to you?” Jason asked staring down at his shaking hands. “Just let me die already.”

“Eat this.” Bruce said instead of responding. He picking the food tray up off of the table in the room and sitting it in his lap. “We'll talk later.”

With those words Bruce left the room and Dick followed. Alfred still stood at the door for a few seconds longer before he spoke, “He's not as strong as he looks. Your death was not an easy time for anyone.”

Jason started at the food. He slowly picked up the fork in his small hand and began the arduous task of eating while shaking.


	2. Chance I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason tries to escape and Bruce is reluctant to talk to him.

He had yet to return. Jason has not expected him to. Bruce wouldn't be back to talk to him that night. He had more important things to do. Protecting Gotham would always come before all else. Even before the people he cared about the most. Not that he thought he was one of those people.

Jason was never sure if that was noble or some kind of corrupted sense of duty. He never knew if Bruce should be commended for his path in life or condemned. None of that truly mattered, after all this was no longer his business.

He took a deep breath then sat up slowly. His body was far too fatigued for him to have done nothing. He slid out the bed and on to his feet. It took every ounce of determination to stay on his feet. He had to get out of here. He could not stay with these people.

He forced his leaden legs to move and it hurt. It was the burning sensation people tend to get when not breathing properly during exercise. He got over to the closet and opened it. He was utterly surprised that all his clothes were still there. They didn't smell closed up, actually they smelled of detergent as if they had been washed a couple days ago.

Jason hesitated to touch the clothes. He was sure but he felt that all of this belonged to someone else. He felt like none of this was his.

He grabbed a shirt hem and pulled it off the hanger. He was too short to reach so he did what he had to. He took off the nightshirt he had on and put on the black tee-shirt. He was swimming in it but he ignored it. He didn't bother with pants or undergarments because nothing in his wardrobe would fit a seven year old.

He moved slowly to the door not because of stealth but because he was exhausted.

“This is lame, moving slower than a snail.” He mumbled to himself as he finally got to the door. He struggled for a few seconds with the door. At first he thought they locked him in.

He finally turned the knob and realized how hard it was. He was pathetically weak. He sighed inwardly. This was really pathetic and he almost stopped his futile attempt at escaping but he had always been stubborn.

He left the room and looked around. The Wayne Manor was as extravagant as he remembered, at least from his perspective. He was positive there were richer people with exorbitant luxuries that shamed Wayne Manor. He just never witnessed it.

Quietly he moved through the hallways as fast as he could, which was at a ridiculously slow pace. He stopped when he reached the stairs. He felt sick but ignored it. The burning in his muscles was becoming severe.

He had to stop and went to his knees at the top of the staircase. Below he heard Barbara talking to someone.

“What do you think?” She asked. Jason remained quiet, not really eavesdropping, but listening nonetheless since he couldn't move.

“I don't know. Bruce wants to keep him around, but I don't trust him.” Tim said.

“I don't think he can do much right now.” she said slightly defensive. “He needs help.”

“You're right but are we really qualified to give him the help he needs?” he posed a legitimate question. “He's broken.”

Jason gritted his teeth in anger. The replacement. She was talking to the replacement. Bruce's new son. The one that took his place so soon after he died. The rage boiling over in his stomach gave him the strength to move.

He was not staying in this place with these people. They weren't his family anymore. The had a new and better Robin.

He wasn't jealousy or envious. He didn't want anything to do with them. Bruce made his choice and he chose the damn clown over him. Jason didn't need reminder of his failures. He had that list memorized in his head. He could flawlessly recite everything he ever did wrong. He knew his character flawless just like Bruce did and neither ever did anything to change.

He wasn't angry at Drake.

He didn't care he continuously told himself, even though there was a pain in his chest that wasn't really there. It was building up around his heart.

It hurt.

He shrugged off the suffocating thoughts and dragged himself down the staircase. He was surprisingly quiet to be in so much pain or it was the raging thunderstorm outside covering any mistakes he made. Barbara and Tim were caught up in their conversation.

Whatever the case he made it outside and into the torrential downpour. He was soaked completely in no time. This was a bad idea but he didn't stop. He couldn't stay in that place any longer.

Slowly he moved toward the gate. His legs were ready to give at any moment but he continued to push forward. He has to escape. He had to get away from them. This wasn't his home.

Never Again.

He made it to the gate and leaned against the bars. He slid down until he was sitting.

“Damn it.” he mumbled as he felt his limbs going numb. “Damn it all.”

He was furious with his body failing him. He became so frustrated that tears were in the corners of his eyes. He wanted out of this nightmare. Why did he have to be here? Why did Bruce save him?

Why wouldn't he chose him?

Did he still care about him? Or did he do it to ease his guilt?

Jason didn't know nor did he care anymore. The man made his choice. There was no turning back now. Just like he made his choice. Once you dirty your hands with death there was no coming back.

“You're not helping your condition.” Dick said standing over Jason with an umbrella.

“Shut up.” Jason sniffed as he held back an involuntary hiccup. The pressure in his chest was crushing him.

“Are you crying?” The older man was taken aback.

“Shut up!” the seemingly child began to cry earnestly. “Don't look at me!”

Jason couldn't explain it but he had no control over his emotions. He was really crying over feeling hurt.

He.

Was.

Crying.

“What the-” Dick said realized that this was no joke. Jason was crying. He was really crying. The black haired child was weeping almost uncontrollably. His small hands covering his face in shame.

Dick sat on his haunches. He held the umbrella over Jason. “Do you want to…uh, talk about it.”

Jason looked at Dick with what should have been a scathing look but was more of a pout on his childish features.

“No.”

“It figures.” the man said standing up and then helping Jason even thought he didn't want help. Slowly they walked to the Manor and Jason wipe at his eyes trying to scrub away the tears.

Inside Alfred came with a towel. He leaned over placing it around Jason's shoulders. “Did you enjoy your walk in the rain, Master Jason?”

Jason shook his head embarrassed but also relieved. He felt better after crying.

“Come let's get you out of those wet clothes.” Alfred said walking slowly with the boy. He could tell the child would not accept help even if he offered and would resent him if he forced it on him.

“I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled. Alfred was stun by the uncharacteristic apology. He stopped when he saw the boy stumble. He quickly grabbed him by the arm when he saw his legs giving out.

“Jason!”

* * *

 

“You need to talk to him.” Dick said as Batman was getting out of the Batmobile.

“I will.” he said walking over to the larger computer and typing in a name.

“Bruce.”

“Not now.” he continued to work.

“He was crying.”

Bruce stopped. “Why?”

“I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. He also tried to leave.” Dick said looking at the screen. It was a list of geneticist on the screen all of them outside of Gotham.

“I'll talk to him.” Bruce said looking at a few of the names.

“Bruce…”

“I will talk to him.” he said slightly irritated.

“I have to get back to Blüdhaven.”

“I understand.” Bruce said focusing on one name in particular.

“You can't just ignore him until you're ready. You don't have that choice.” Dick turning to leave. “You got another chance to save him, Bruce. It's your second chance.”

He was right. It was a second chance and already he was squandering it. He took off the cowl and the suit. He didn't have time to waste. He made a promise he intended to keep.

He got cleaned up and went to Jason's room. At first he didn't think it was a good idea letting him stay in that room. He felt it would remind Jason of how much he wasn't the person he use to be. Then again it was probably better to see that he still care about his ward…his son.

He got to the room and saw Tim and Barbara eavesdropping.

“You two want to explain what you're doing?” Barbara jumped slightly but Tim hid his surprise well.

“Well…” the red head said as she tried to come up with an excuse.

“Curiosity.” Tim said folding his arms over his chest. “Alfred has been in there talking to him for almost an hour since he got back in.”

“In?”

“He tried to leave but Dick found him out front crying in the rain.” Barbara supplied.

Bruce moved toward the door and they moved. “Find something else to do.”

Both looked at each other and agreed. Once they were out of sight, Bruce opened the door.

"Master Bruce." Alfred looked over to the billionaire. Jason was lying down on the bed with his back to both of them while Alfred was standing near the bed.

“I came to speak to Jason.” He said glancing at the small pseudo child. Alfred lingered for several seconds before Bruce gave him a questioning look.

The butler mouth to him ‘be gentle’. Bruce gave a small nod. He left the two of them alone.

“Jason.”

“I don't want to stay here. You can't make me stay here.” the small child pushed himself into a sitting position. It took far too much effort. It remind Bruce of a terminally ill child.

“I can and I will.” he said already cursing his choice in words. “You're not well.”

“I don't care!” Jason said panting from exhaustion. “I'm none of your business anymore.”

“That does not change the fact you are physically incapable of taking care of yourself.”

“I don't need help from anyone.” he said trying to get out of the bed but failing miserably.

Bruce place a firm grip on the child's shoulder. “Don't make this harder than it already is.”

“You made your choice.”

“And I don't regret it.” Bruce said coldly.

Jason laughed a little too hollow to be real. “You never do.”

“Why were you crying.” Bruce said staring at the puffiness in around his eyes.

Jason didn't respond. He looked elsewhere and avoided all eye contact.

“Jason.”

“I don't know. I-I just could stop. It was uncontrollably…like I was a kid again. ” he said unconsciously rubbing at his eyes. Bruce grabbed his hand and Jason snatched his hand back.

“You're only making it worst.” The man said contemplative. Jason looked down at his hand and then to Bruce.

“I'm still regressing?” Jason asked almost terrified.

“No, I don't think so but you are still in the body of a child. Children are emotional.” Bruce said remembering how unemotional he was as a child in contrast.

“I can't stay like this. You have to do something Bruce.” Jason said looking at his trembling hands. Jason knew with his mental scars and a more emotional mind he could end up doing something he'd regret.

“You don't have a choice. Your body is already unstable. We needed to deal with that first.” he said.

Jason look up at Bruce pleading with the blue eyed man. It was the first time Bruce had ever seen this type of expression from Jason. The boy's green eyes full of fear.

“I can't.” Bruce said walking away from the boy. Finding away to return him to normal was not an option. The real Jason Todd could not return or Bruce would be forced to take actions that would make him break his promise.

Jason punched the pillow beside him in anger. Staying with these people was not an option. He couldn't take being there with everyone. He was the failure, he didn't belong there. He didn't fit in there, like a puzzle piece from another box.

Bruce left him alone and stood outside the room leaning on the door. He couldn't fail Jason again. He couldn't lose him again.  
  


* * *

 

Jason woke up shaking from fear as the clown's laughter still echoed in his mind. He could still feel the ghost pain in his ribcage. A reminder of how to properly use a crowbar. A lesson he would never forget. He sat up and got out of bed only fall flat on his butt. He curse silently and got to his feet.

He wasn't trying to escape now. He just wanted to walk so he could shake the grip his nightmare had on him.

He followed a path he knew without really thinking. He stood in front of the grandfather clock. He stared up at the face of the clock wondering what in the world was he doing here. He logically knew how he got here but not why.

Why was Bruce doing this for him?

Why take care of him?

He was a killer just like the trash he abhorred. The irredeemable disappointment. He chuckled to himself as he started down at his trembling hands.

“You're not exactly what I pictured.” Tim said from behind Jason.

Jason was surprised that any one other than Alfred was up this early. “Yeah, I can see how this meeting is a disappointment.”

“He used to call me Jason.”

“Must have been annoying.” Jason said staring at the young man's reflection in the glass door of the clock.

“He's not doing this out of guilty. Bruce is far too complex to let guilty be the only driving force.” Tim stuck his hand in his pockets.

“Then why?” Jason ask almost pleading for and answer he could understand. “Why is he doing this?”

“Maybe you should ask him.” Tim said walking away but stopped. “Don't go down there.”

“If you hadn't noticed, I can't even reach the mechanism.” Jason said turning to leave as well.

He wandered through the manor full of boredom. His dream still haunting him. His surroundings only adding to the surreal moment he was having.

He stopped and stared out of one of the many windows. Drake wasn't so bad for a replacement. A little annoying but not bad.

He had chance to be with his family again…at least until it all fell apart again. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to, even if it was for a short time.

He looked down the hallway and sighed. This place was really too much at times.  
\--


	3. What Makes You Better?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason takes real look at his replacement and as a question he never contemplated before. Plus more ill Jason moments.

Alfred was still surprised to see the small boy that was in fact Jason Todd. Even now as he stood watching over the fake child, he was in awe. The small boy was lying on the leather couch, resting quietly. It was something he would only do if his guard was down. It made Alfred wonder if Jason felt safe here even after everything.

 

"Alfred?" Jason said opening his eyes slowly. The butler checked over Jason briefly.

 

"Yes Master Jason."

 

"You don't have to call me that any more, I'm not Bruce's ward any longer." the green eyed boy said sitting up slowly. Alfred could tell he was in tremendous pain from the tremors that shook his form, but none it showed on the child's face. It was slightly creepy how well Jason kept pain expressions off his face. It was something he learned.

 

"I'm well aware of that fact." Alfred said placing a small quilt around his shoulders. He brushed the messy bangs from Jason's eyes. "I prefer to."

 

Jason pulled the quilt closer. He wasn't cold but the quilt was a comfort. He lied back down and stare out the window. "If that is what you want...I don't really care."

 

"Master Bruce should be up soon. He has a meeting he needs to be late to." the butler said about to leave the sitting room.

 

"Drake lives here?" Jason asked out of curiosity and nothing else.

 

"His parent are currently on a long vacation, while Master Tim won an internship at Wayne Enterprise." Alfred said stopping to look back at Jason. "Would you like something to eat?"

 

"No." he said even as he felt hunger gnawing at his stomach. He didn't really have an appetite even though he knew he needed to eat.

 

"I'll will bring you some soup in a few hours." Alfred said ignoring Jason's response.

-

 

* * *

 

Hours passed silently as Jason drifted between reality and his dreams. He was wet and sticky when he finally force his consciousness out of the ocean of sleep. Opening his eyes was tiresome but he did so anyway. The sun was filtering through the blinds on to his already heated skin. He tried to sit up but wasn't able to. He was paralyzed.

He didn't panic at first, instead he tried to relax. There was a logical reason as to why he couldn't move. He felt exhausted constantly but he continued to push himself. It was obvious that he had just overworked himself.

He came to a conclusion but that was turned on its ear when he heard the laughter. That sadistic laughter that echoed in his mind since the moment he sat up out of the Lazarus pit. There were footsteps now, drawing closer to him. The scraping sound of metal on wood. Jason felt his heart leap in terror.

He couldn't be here he told himself. It's not possible, he was in Arkham again. Bruce wouldn't let him in here. He wouldn't let the clown this close to his home...his base.

 

"Look at you, as cute as a button." his voice killed any hope in Jason. "Hmm, can't move?"

Jason struggled against the paralysis futilely. He tried to force his arms to move, but nothing responded to his commands. He was helpless again, just like before and he knew from experience Batman wasn't coming.

 

"Welp, this makes it all the easier." the clowns said slowly descending into outright laughter as he raise the crowbar. His red lips gleamed disgustingly in the sunlight as he struck Jason in the chest. Jason gasped and choked on his own blood as he struggled against his useless limbs.

 

"Jason!" Joker screamed his name. "Jason!"

 

"Jason!" another crippling blow from the crowbar made his body spasm involuntarily.

 

"Jason!" the voice was becoming distorted into something he couldn't understand. The words made no sense to him, like a record played wrong. The pain in his body only continue to grow as his muscles felt like he couldn't relax. It was rhythmic spasm that consumed his already fragile body.

 

* * *

 

Bruce opened his eyes suddenly. He had a dream he had not had in quite awhile. He stared up at his hands he held up to see. He still could remember carrying the lifeless teen. The strain of carrying dead weight. He looked over to his clock and realized he was awake much earlier than he anticipated. He climbed out of his bed and opened his drapes since Alfred had not come to wake him yet.

He closed his eyes against the sunlight that shined in. The heat was comforting after the night he had. He strolled to his bathroom and looked at the mirror. He was still get used to looking at himself. Being in his late 20s was odd. He already had a cover story for his visible change, though he didn't like it. Plastic surgery was his best bet but he really didn't want to use it as his cover. The other option would be makeup to look like his actual age but that could be problematic.

He decided on plastic surgery as he turned on the shower. He stepped into the warm spray vaguely contemplating if he should speak to the geneticist he read up on. She could help Jason but there was something about her that irked him. He watched a few of her lectures and read some of her dissertations. Her personality was lacking in a lot of areas but he was exactly one who could freely talk about that.

He need someone skilled to help Jason. He wasn't dying but his condition was unstable. He stepped out of the shower and dried off before shaving. For a few seconds he found himself staring at himself in the mirror. He didn't quite recognize himself. He remembered he was very angry at this age. He was a loose cannon then. He didn't know how Alfred put up with him. He finished what he needed to do and then headed downstairs.

He was going toward the dinner room but stopped when he heard a moan. He followed the groaning sound back to the sitting room where Jason was. The small child was convulsing in his sleep. Bruce quickly got the child off the couch and flat on the floor. He was having a seizure. His body shook violently as sweat beaded on his brow. His muscles were locked almost rigid. The tendons in his neck were visible. He looked like he was in agony.

 

"Jason." Bruce called the boy, but he only seem to get worst as Bruce called. Alfred came in as he heard Bruce calling Jason repeatedly. The billionaire had the child turn over on his side. He didn't hold Jason down but kept him from hurting himself.

 

"Jason!" Bruce called the pseudo child again when the seizure became violent. Jason actually began to fight against Bruce during the worse part of the seizure. He frothed at the mouth and Bruce tilted his head so he wouldn't choke on the foam. Several tense minutes passed before Jason finally stopped spasming. He laid relaxed only twitching at random intervals.

Slowly green eyes opened tiredly. Jason looked confused as he looked up at Bruce. Bruce's brow was furrow in worry and he had a firm grip on Jason's shoulders.

 

"What?" Jason said not sure where he was or what was happening. He only knew he had never seen that look in Bruce's eyes. He was really worried. The man was fearful.

 

"Jason, are you alright?" The blue eyed man asked.

 

"I don't know what...what happened?" Jason said trying his best to sit up but unable to.

 

"You had a seizure." he said picking up the boy and laying him on the couch. "You're okay now."

 

"Joker was here!" Jason said trying to move. He was forcing himself to sit up causing his already overtaxed body to quake.

 

"Jason, he's not here." Bruce stopped him from moving.

 

"He was! He was...he was hitting me. He was killing...me." Jason said looking around like a cornered animal as if Joker was hiding somewhere.

 

"He's not here. He can't hurt you." Bruce said making the boy look at him. "I want let him hurt you."

 

"I almost believed you. Then I remembered." the green eyed boy said with a smile that didn't belong to a child.

Bruce said nothing to Jason's statement. Instead he looked over to Alfred. "Call a doctor."

 

"Right away sir." Alfred said leaving the room.

 

"Just let me die."

 

"Shut up Jason." Bruce said checking his pulse.

 

"Why not? Its easy isn't it?"

 

"Shut up Jason." Tim said placing an ice pack on Jason's head that he gotten from Alfred. The child was burning up. He was covered in sweat.

Jason said nothing. He rested his head against the armrest while Bruce counted his heartbeats per minute.

He was tired but much too afraid to sleep. He lied silently as Bruce and Tim watched over him. It was annoying but he also felt safe…strangely.

 

"He should be here soon." Alfred said placing a blanket over Jason's shaking form. The boy didn't say anything but he pulled the blanket closer to himself. He hid the bottom half of his face with blanket.

 

"Alfred take care of Jason's wardrobe and have the jet ready. We are leaving for Bludhäven." Bruce said.

 

"Bludhäven, sir will you be meeting Master Grayson?" Alfred asked.

 

"No, we are going to meet a geneticist. She can help Jason." Bruce said. "Tim, you'll be accompanying us. Be prepared."

The late teen gave an affirmative and went to prepare. The butler looked over to the child.

 

"This is unnecessary." Jason said from under the blanket.

 

"Don't overtax your body anymore than it already is." Bruce warned. Jason responded by putting his head under the blanket completely. He was embarrassed but unsure as to why.

-

 

* * *

 

The physician arrived and began checking Jason's condition. Bruce actually hovered around in the background while the doctor worked. Once the man finished he turned to Bruce.

 

"Mister Wayne, how long did the seizure last?"

 

"He was convulsing when I found him, so I don't have the exact time. It lasted for about three minutes from the moment I found him." Bruce had that charming voice he always used for everyone outside of his inner circle. He was concern, Alfred could see that clearly even while Jason was oblivious to it.

Jason sat on his bed in some pyjamas. Alfred had brought him a wardrobe that fit his personality. The seemingly child listened half hearted to the conversation while sliding down into a lying position. Alfred could see the fatigued on the boy's face since he wasn't hiding it.

 

"He doesn't have and physical signs of damage from the seizure but you should probably have his brain thoroughly checked. He seems to be running fever which you need to keep an eye on." the doctor said packing his bag.

 

"Thank you Doctor." Bruce said walking out with the doctor.

 

"He's wasting a lot of time." Jason said still reposed on the bed.

 

"Time that I am rather glad he is using to save you."

 

"He's entirely too late to save me." the green eyed boy said turning over in the bed. "Far too late."

-

 

* * *

 

The Wayne private jet touched down at midday. It was sweltering heat outside and Jason was being difficult.

"I don't need help!" Jason was borderline whiny, but didn't realize it. Tim felt like he was dealing with a child. Bruce was already outside dealing with the press since the were coincidentally there for some Metropolis bigwig. They saw Bruce and automatically saw headlines.

"Jason, you can barely walk." Tim said looking at the wild locks that even Alfred couldn't seem to tame.

"I don't care. " Jason said looking at the media crowding in on Bruce as he lied to them about having plastic surgery in a roundabout way if denying he had it.

"Jason."

"You are not picking me up." Jason said ready to fight the young man off if he tried.

"Fine then we'll get a wheelchair. Is that better?"

Jason shrugged, the only affirmative Tim was getting.

They finally got to the upscale five star hotel around evening. It was a far cry from what the city was really like. Gotham was bad but Blüdhaven was something else. Jason was sleeping by the time the bellboy showed them to their room. Bruce rented a suite but had no intention of using it for any other than a place to lie his head. Tim carried Jason over to the bed and laid him down gently. He was a lot easier to deal with when he was sleep.

Bruce was on the balcony talking to Nightwing that just showed up. Tim didn't bother intruding on their conversation instead he sat watching over Jason.

Bruce came back in and sat down on one of the white leather sofas. "I need you to watch him. I need to track down Dr. Ashleigh."

"She's the geneticist that can help Jason." Tim said looking over at the boy.

"Yes, but she's gone missing just recently. I'm working with Dick to find her. I need you to take care of him." Bruce said.

"Don't take too long he already barely trust you." Tim said tossing the blanket over the seemingly child. Bruce said nothing as he let the hotel room but Tim took it as he would try.

It was the middle of the night Jason woke up terrified. His fear was ridiculous, he knew that but his emotions were out of his control. He huddled under the covers squeezing the pillow he had to his body. His dreams were not real. None of the stuff he saw was real. He had holes in his memory but he was almost sure he never killed anyone the way he dreamed. He was a despicable person but he wasn't like the clown. He wasn't like him.

Even as he tried to talk himself down anxiety was building up until it overflowed. Tears began to stream his cheeks as he forced his breathing to remain relatively normal. He was not crying again.

He was not letting this affect him this way, but no matter what he said to himself the tears kept flowing. He pressed his face in the pillow as the childish tendency compelled him. He felt a hand touch the top of his head. He stopped moving.

"It was just a dream, don't let it get to you." Tim said moving his hand. Jason sniffled.

"I can't control it." he said pushing the covers back from him. He wiped his eyes and looked over at Tim. The teen was sitting in a chair near the bed with a book in his hand. "I'm not crying because I want to."

"Who does?" Tim said looking back down at his book. Jason stared at him far too long so when Tim looked up Jason quickly looked elsewhere.

"I don't get you or Bruce. I screw up. I killed people and I don't regret any of it. Why go through all of this when you know I'll just end up being a disappointment. I'm going to kill that clown. That is my only reason for living, to do what he never had the conviction to do."

"Yeah let me know how you work out that height difficulty." Tim said flipping a page.

Jason became annoyed but said nothing else. They sat silently but Jason was okay with it. He glanced at Tim everyone once in while wondering how he ended up working with Bruce. He seemed like the only Robin that had a stable home life. Jason didn't understand. Tim had a father and a mother. He didn't lack for familia love.

He caught his reflection in the window the bed sat in front of. He looked like a sickly child. A pitiful child that was helpless and the truth was...he was, but still even now he wondered, 'What Makes You Better?'

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back to writing this thanks to Arkham Knight. I really enjoyed the overall story until the end. I have some complaints but I really did enjoy it.  
> Anyway, My Jason for this story is a little of each one I like and some headcannon I have. Sorry for my ooc Bruce. He is very hard to write.


End file.
